Page 90 of The Freedom in Captivity

“So do it. Please. I beg you to so when I fuck you, it’ll be against the wall and you’ll understand exactly how you’ve fucked up.”

I almost want to call his bluff but then he slides his finger inside me. One single thrust, before he pulls back and adds another and my thighs drop to the side, spreading as wide as I can for him.

“The old you would have had more fight. Shame.”

“You wouldn’t be fucking the old me for revenge,” I counter, finding a defence amidst the bliss. “If we were playing, it’d be different, but you didn’t come here to play, did you?”

“Nope.” With the word, he jams his fingers roughly inside me, curling them on the button he’s always been able to find. He does it again and again, not letting up, not allowing me to breathe, as every thrust steals more air from my lungs. He’s on the verge of hurting my insides, but the hurt is so damn good I can’t complain.

A whimper, so I shove a fist into my mouth, biting down on the skin before I make too much noise and alert the soldier outside. When his thumb brushes my sensitive, swollen clit, my back arches, my teeth slamming into my skin, and I’m positive I’m about to break skin.

He doesn’t let up. The pain and pleasure mingle. My insides clench around his fingers, gratification consuming my mind, body, and fucking soul. My bite gets deeper as I fight to remain as quiet as I can through my orgasm. My cum is dripping down between his hand and down my ass—Did I squirt?

He makes an appreciative noise and pulls his fingers from my pussy, abandoning me before I was ready for him to be. He grins, holding his fingers up for me to see my body’s betrayal.

Then he sucks them deeply into his mouth, licking my cum from his fingers, and I swear, it’s the fucking hottest thing. But it doesn’t mean he’s in his right mind, and what just happened is an example. The old Flynn would have stopped when I said to.

But this time, he didn’t even hesitate.

I roll, getting to my knees and off the bed on the opposite side, remaining there with only my dignity left.

“Decided now to remember your own claims?” His brow lifts. “Too bad your body didn’t get the message.”

“You’re drunk, Flynn, and you’re making stupid decisions. Leave. Come back when you’re sober.”

He barks out a rough laugh. “Granting permission now? That’s cute, considering you’re the fuckin’ captive here.”

My arms cross, fingers digging into my sides, reminding me the physical pain I bring my body isn’t less than the emotional one Flynn is trying to elicit.

“You’re angry because you blame me for the years you couldn’t let me go. You came here with plans to punish. Go away before you’re found and then you’ll find more ways to blame me.”

And I’m not sure how much more of your hatred I can take.

Light flickers through his soulful eyes, his responding slow smile making my stomach flip. “Only if you tell me one thing.”

“What?” He could ask for anything and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to respond to all the possible questions.

“Do you actually want me to go or you just sayin’ that?”

I’m saying it because this isn’t you.This isn’t even the Flynn from the basement.At least that one had a purpose in hating me.

“I actually want you to go.”

“Fuckin’ liar. Always were one, and nothing’s ever gonna change, is it?”

In a flash, he lunges over the bed to my side and before I manage a step, one hand’s slapped over my mouth, the other shoving into my back, forcing my chest to the bed. He releases my mouth, seeing as we both know I won’t shout, and grasps both my wrists, pinning them behind me.

The cloth of his shirt rubs against my bare back as he bends over, his lips softly trailing the skin at the top of my spine. I shiver, the tingles he creates doing ungodly things to my core. Everything else in the world is so easily ignorable when he’s touching me.

I push out my hips, but all that does is rub my bare ass against him. He groans, and with his free hand, strokes the skin and mumbles, “Careful now. One would think you’re asking for it.”

“Fuck you.” I wiggle, trying to break his impossible grip..

“No, fuckyou,mon soliel.”

Turns out, that was his warning, because two fingers slam right back into my pussy. My scream muffles into the blanket, my hips undulating for more. My stupid legs inch farther apart, welcoming his roughness.

Thisis the old Flynn. Unforgiving and unyielding because that’s what I preferred, even then. I never enjoyed tender and calm. I wantedthis. Animalistic. Rough.

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